


Pain

by lionofwrath



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 04:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20718128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionofwrath/pseuds/lionofwrath
Summary: Albert couldn’t stop crying.





	Pain

**Author's Note:**

> My dear friend Pelissa drew me a lovely picture of Wesker very badly beaten up, and Chris coming to the rescue. I couldn’t resist writing a bit based on that, and what happens after. Please take a look at the picture [here](https://twitter.com/PelissaShieva/status/1146173092307378176)

When he was finally alone in his cell again, naked, and kneeling on the dirty floor, Albert let himself cry. Maybe they were still watching him, but at least he hadn’t broken down while they were torturing him. As if he had any pride or dignity left to cling to after what they’d done to him. His breath caught in a harsh self-mocking laugh that turned into another sob. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the marks on his skin, but he could feel it all anyway. The way the rope had bitten into his wrists and ankles, the bloody bruises on his knees where he’d slammed them against the table while they’d whipped him. And while they’d done worse. Albert’s head dropped as he struggled to breathe past his sobs, tears falling wetly onto his arms and thighs to mix with the blood. Every part of him hurt, the pain a relentless throb that he couldn’t escape. Just like he couldn’t escape the cell, or them.

He didn’t know how long it had been before the door opened again. Not long enough, he still hurt so much. Someone was beside him, and he flinched away, realising that he was crying in front of them, but it didn't matter anymore.

‘Al?’ The voice was unmistakably Chris’, no one else said his name with so much affection.

He cried harder as strong arms wrapped around him, not daring to believe that Chris was actually real.

‘It’s ok, I’m here.’

Albert couldn’t stop crying. It only made him feel more humiliated, more broken, but he didn’t have the strength to stop.

Chris had kindly, if reluctantly, taken him home instead of to a hospital, which Albert felt distantly grateful for. Now he was on his knees on the floor again, this time with a blanket covering him and a cup of water clutched in his hands, while Chris fiddled with the bathtub.

Albert stared at his wrists, barely able to see the raw, red abrasions past his tears. He didn't have the courage to look at Chris. Even though he hadn’t said a word since he’d been rescued, he knew that Chris had figured out that his captors hadn’t simply beaten him. Probably the whole BSAA team had too, it felt so obvious, as if what they’d done to him had been branded into his skin for everyone to see. The idea scared him. Wondering what Chris thought of him now terrified him.

They’d called him demeaning names, talked about his body as if they had the right to touch him, and as much as he wished he could dismiss it as lies, they weren’t the first to treat him as if he was less than human. Those people in his past had called themselves scientists, and while they hadn’t violated him in quite the same way, they’d still used his body against his will. Maybe that was all he was good for. Maybe Chris would finally see that too.

Albert’s vision blurred as he sobbed harder, his tears oddly cool as they fell heavily on his scraped wrists.

‘Oh, Al.’

He couldn’t make out Chris’ face, but he could feel the press of lips to his forehead, the hand stroking through his hair, the warmth of Chris' arms and chest as he was hugged. It was somehow both reassuring and useless at the same time, Albert collapsing against Chris in search of comfort while he continued to cry.

‘How about a nice warm bath?’ Chris suggested, his voice strained with worry. ‘You’ll feel better when you’re clean.’

The words were unconvincing, and Albert doubted he’d ever feel clean again, but he managed to nod in agreement.

‘Easy, watch your head.’

A hand on his arm steadied him as he climbed into the tub, Chris pulling the blanket off him as he sat down in the water. Practically, Albert realised that was so the blanket didn’t get soaked, but he felt too exposed with it gone. He shivered despite the hot water, drawing his legs up to his chest in a pitiful attempt to cover himself. His crying had eased enough that he could see the reddish-pink swirls of blood in the water, and the visual reminder coupled with the ever-present pain made the tears fall again.

‘I’m here.’ Chris reached over the side of the tub to put his arms around Albert, kissing and nuzzling his hair.

One of his hands crept up to grab Chris’ forearm as more sobs made him shudder violently. ‘Ch-Chris-’ The rest of his attempt at speaking turned into wordless whimpering.

‘I know.’ Chris’ embrace was almost painfully tight. ‘It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it.’

Albert couldn’t respond, crying so hard that he had trouble breathing, but this time it finally felt like a true release. The water was cold before his sobs died down to soft hiccuping whines.

Chris gave him a cup to sip from so he wouldn’t get dehydrated as they waited for the tub to refill, then helped him wash anywhere he had difficulty reaching. ‘I think I should bandage some of these.’ He dripped water down Albert’s back then carefully daubed at the wounds with the washcloth.

‘Ok.’ Albert was hunched over with his arms around his knees again, despite Chris’ supportiveness and the relief it had brought him, the fear had stayed. He didn’t understand why, he knew Chris loved him… but the more desperately he wanted to believe that, the less sure he became.

Chris helped him sit on the bed, arranging the medical supplies in an orderly fashion next to him. He took Albert’s hand gently, wrapping a bandage around the bruised, torn, wrist while Albert traced his motions with his eyes.

It took all his failing strength to ask the question he might not survive the answer to. ‘Chris? Do you still love me?’

‘What?’ Startled, Chris paused with his hand in midair. ‘Of course I do. Why…’

Albert kept staring at his partially bandaged wrist, frantically blinking back tears as his cheeks heated in embarrassment. He was so tired of pathetically weeping over everything.

‘Al, look at me.’ Chris coaxed him.

Reluctantly, Albert raised his head, trying to meet Chris’ gaze as fresh tears spilled down his face to blur his vision.

A hand cupped his jaw, Chris tenderly wiping his cheek dry with his thumb. ‘I love you. What happened doesn’t change how much I love you.’

Albert squeezed his eyes shut as another burst of sobbing made him shake. The fear and the pain had almost convinced him that he was just a thing to be abused, but Chris wouldn’t lie to him. ‘Say it again.’ He whispered, leaning into Chris’ palm as he brushed more tears away.

‘I love you. Always. Forever.’ Chris’ arms slid around him to pull Albert into his lap.

Albert buried his face in Chris’ shoulder, and eventually, curled up against the strong reassuring warmth of his lover, he stopped crying.


End file.
